"Let's hope you don't start thinking about a sword," Loras replied bitingly. His narrowed blue eyes betrayed his otherwise disaffected posture. He pushed the closet door shut after snatching the dust pan.
Frowning down at the shattered coffee pot, Loras handed Obi the dust pan. It was Obi's mess, not Loras'. "What is it, then?" he asked, pushing down the stunned pitch of his tone. "Telekinesis?"